


A Dream in the Shade of Crimson

by mediumgrave



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Boot Worship, Dom/sub, I mean, Kinkterror, Kinktober, Kinktober 2019, Light Bondage, Lucio also does literally give Julian the plague, M/M, Memories, Nightmares, Oral Sex, SO, There's not a lot of context for this so the dynamic isn't the safest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-11-28 05:15:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20961074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mediumgrave/pseuds/mediumgrave
Summary: Julian's dreams are haunted by Count Lucio.





	A Dream in the Shade of Crimson

**Author's Note:**

> Kinktober Day 8 - Hallucinations/Nightmares from @HigherMagic's kinkterror list

There’s the distinct sound of wet footsteps as he walks down the corridor. The sound echos and squelches off of the dark walls. Everything here is out of focus, tinted with a shade of red. Julian recognizes this as somewhere within the palace, but he can’t place its exact location. He thinks its in the basement, but he isn’t sure. 

A bug scurries across his vision and the environment around him changes. 

He’s definitely below ground now. He recognizes this room instantly, it’s the office he was doing his research in during the plague. His body moves without any thought, simply placing itself in front of his desk as he looks through his notes. There’s a pang of panic that strains through him as he looks over them. There’s no cure yet. 

He desperately tries to read over what he has discovered so far, but each time he begins a page the words seem to swirl under him. He knows what they should say, should have history and patterns carefully noted. But, that information isn’t here. 

He hears the sound of a clock chiming as it announces the change of the hour. 

Too late. 

There’s a sudden presence behind him. That presence’s weight is distinctly noted, but not felt. He simply knows this to be a fact. 

“You’re late Doctor Jules.”

"I-"

His body locks in place and refuses to let him move. 

There’s a golden hand at his throat now, the sharp points pressing into his skin.

Clearly he wasn't meant to speak.

When did the door open? When did he get here? Had he been waiting this entire time, watching him fail to do something as simple as read his notes?

The fingers tighten on his throat, cutting off his breathing. At least, Julian’s pretty sure he was breathing before this. 

“You really should have tried harder.”

The non metallic hand pulls Julian’s hair, tugging his head backwards.

“LOOK AT ME.”

He doesn’t really have a choice.

It’s difficult to paint a clear picture of him, despite the fact that he’s looking directly at him. 

What he does know is that Lucio is a disgusting mix of hideous and beautiful. The peak representation of someone who had flown too close to the sun. No, that was wrong. He was the peak representation of someone who had dug too low. 

The golden hand loosens its grip, sliding under clothing and raking itself down Julian's chest. 

Despite frailty, all control was in the Count’s hands. 

The Count makes an expression between a snarl and a grin. Still clearly furious about the situation, but finding a sense of gratification in how powerful he still was. 

It was dangerous how arousing this situation was. 

Then everything changes again. 

He’s kneeling on one knee in front of Lucio, the count holding his chin up with the threat of a single clawed finger. Julian’s hands are bound behind his back, but something tells him that Lucio wasn’t able to tie the knot on his own. There isn’t any follow up to his thought, but it sticks out to him nonetheless.

“Look at you, you’re precious.”

There’s a feeling of his body trying to remember the feelings of warmth and pleasure at the joy of being praised. But the feeling here is faint as well. 

Julian’s face is flushed red, eyes half lidded, lips parted. He’s waiting to be rewarded, and he’s doing everything that he can to obey the count. If he told him all he wanted to do was look at him he’d accept. If he wanted to bruise him he’d accept. 

Lucio relinquishes the one point of touch. Julian whimpers and Lucio laughs as he leans back into the silks of his bed. 

“Precious.”

Lucio crosses his legs, purposefully pressing the toe of his boot into Julian's chest.

"If you really want me that bad come and get me."

A different Julian is standing and staring as walls of flame absorb everything in sight. They’re licking closer to him, and he thinks for a moment that he should simply walk in and be absorbed as well. A flame licks up the dragging fabric of his cloak. He shouldn’t run, because perhaps all of this truly was his fault.

The Julian in the office takes center stage again. He's been tossed from his chair onto cement that should be cold. He should feel bruising starting to bloom on his tailbone. Instead, what he does feel is the overwhelming presence that was Lucio. 

He's looking up at him with absolutely no way to escape. He isn't really sure if he would if he could. 

He knows this man is at best a wildfire. Unpredictable and absolutely destructive. At his worst he was the Devil, smart and calculating. 

He doesn't get a chance to think about which Lucio is in this moment as Lucio's heel is now pressing into his groin.

Julian gasps, eyes wide in an attempt to make sure they don't miss anything Lucio may be hiding. Not that catching anything would change the situation. 

Lucio leans down, causing more pressure to crush Julian's cock. 

Julian thinks he hears himself cry out.

The Julian in Lucio's chambers is pressing dedicated kisses on the inside of Lucio's boot. Each one is trying so hard to prove so much. Obedience, praise, loyalty. 

Julian likes to think he catches softness in the Count's expression. 

There's forgiveness in the way that Lucio uncrosses his legs and spreads his thighs. 

Another iteration of Julian is shaking as he holds the blade just below Lucio’s shoulder. This wasn’t the first time he’d seen something like this, but it didn’t make it any easier. There’s a lump in his throat. He’d give anything to be able to close his eyes and not look at what is about to be done. He raises the blade and his vision swims with tears.

The naked and tied Julian closes his eyes blissfully. He tongues and mouths at the white fabric of Lucio’s clothed erection. Relishing in the tracing of the cock kept from him. There’s adoration in the way he accepts what is given to him. He wouldn’t be worthy of anything more, and he’s willing and glad to accept what little is given to him.

The Julian laying on cement clenches his jaw shut. He’s spotted what is in Lucio’s hand.

Somewhere between amputation, adoration, and alarm is another iteration of the two. There’s a gentle kiss being shared by two men who are usually eccentric. 

Julian’s mouth is pried open by Lucio’s tongue. 

Julian’s mouth is pried open by a bare cock, weight resting on Julian’s tongue.

Julian’s mouth is pried open by metalic fingers, a diseased beetle being crushed on Julian’s tongue. 

Julian bolts up from the bed that he’s made for himself tonight. He’s laying in an alleyway that is far from comforting. 

There’s brief relief in the understanding that these were simply dreams, separate from his reality.

Then, there’s the reminder of how much was simply memories melding with his unconscious. 

He closes his eyes, and tries to dream of anything other than Lucio.

**Author's Note:**

> This ended up being a lot tamer than I had first envisioned it, but I'm still pretty proud of how it ended up turning out.


End file.
